


Alive

by Lirry_loves_Ziall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boxing! Liam, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Protective Liam, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sad Liam, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:25:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirry_loves_Ziall/pseuds/Lirry_loves_Ziall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.”  I saw her delicate body start to collapse in on itself and I ran to her, I sat down next to her on the cold ground and held her body close as she wept at the loss of her own son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alive

I was at work when I got the call. Within minutes I was at the hospital, frantically searching for a familiar face. Everyone seemed to blur together into a mess of haze. My eyes fell to a broken woman, hunched over in her chair, her hands cupping her face and violent sobs escaping her lips. I never saw her so weak and vulnerable before. She had always been one of the strongest women I knew, but here, while waiting for news none of us were prepared for, she was crumbling to pieces. Sitting next to her were her two daughters, both desperately trying to comfort the shattered woman they always looked up to. I hadn’t realized how just much my legs were about to give way and collapse until my fiancée’s father wrapped me up in his arms and I drenched his perfectly pressed, black button up shirt in tears. I wanted to ask so many questions, express everything that was running through my mind. But every time I tried to speak, more tears crept down my cheeks and nothing but a whimper would fall past my lips. We stayed, painted like a broken picture, for what seem like eternity. It wasn’t until the doctor spoke, did I realize time had passed.

“Are you the Payne family?” he asked, eyeing my loves mother. She couldn’t speak, just nodded, trying to hold up her already torn apart stature.

“Your son lost a lot of blood; it was sketchy for a bit, we lost him for a minute…” Her tears flowing freely now, her baby boy, lifeless, she couldn’t handle those words. “But we managed to get him back. He’s not responding to treatment right now, and I’m afraid it’s up to him to wake up. Only time will tell.” He turned to leave us with those final words, but was stopped when a cracked voice spoke up. 

“What about my baby?” I hadn’t even realized Andy’s mum was there too, I was so preoccupied on my own love, I didn’t bother to make sure that no one else was in the car. 

“Mrs. Samuels?”

“Yes,” her puffy eyes looked more lost than anything. The doctor stepped tentatively towards her, softly placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.” I saw her delicate body start to collapse in on itself and I ran to her, I sat down next to her on the cold ground and held her body close as she wept at the loss of her own son. 

~

I spent every day at that gloomy hospital, waiting and praying that my soon to be husband would wake up. Days turned into weeks and the doctors were starting to lose hope. I read to him every night, always a different story. I liked to believe that he could hear me and that he laughed and cried along with me at every turn of the page. His mother brought new flowers in each day, and his sisters watched gossip television with him, hoping that he would wake up and tell them to turn the trash off, like he used to. His dad would just sit with him, holding his sons hand and praying to the Lord that he would help his little boy.

I was beyond ecstatic when he opened his eyes one sunny morning. To be able to see his beautiful brown eyes again, and the way they crinkled when he smiled, made me happier than words could ever express. I missed that smile deeply. What I remember most about that day though, is the tears, broken glass, and swearing that came from the used to be joyful man. I just wanted him to be happy, smiling and alive again, but when he remembered who was in the car with him, I knew he’d never be the same. When he looked at me with those big puppy dog eyes, capturing a hold on my heart and asking me how Andy was, I nearly broke my calm stature. What was I to say? You killed your best friend. Although I didn't believe he did, I knew that’s how he would see it. I didn’t need to say anything, as soon as he saw the tears creep down my cheek, he knew what happened. 

I remember the glass vase, holding the flowers his mom had just bought, smashing into hundreds of little shards onto the floor. Seeing the white lily’s fall to the floor and creating a mess of water, broken stems, and shattered glass. He moved to get up, cursing loudly as he pulled at the machine cords that stuck to his body. He used all his anger and tore each one from his arms and chest, no thought of pain entering his mind. The doctors blew past me; grabbing hold of him and pinning him back down onto the bed. His legs thrashing uncontrollably as he yelled, screaming out the name of his lost best friend. The tears began pouring down my face, I had never seen him so broken and so damaged. The doctor pulled out a needle from his coat and plunged it into Liam’s IV, helping him pass out within seconds. My legs gave in and I fell to the floor, my back sliding down the wall until I was sitting with my legs sprawled out in front of me. I pulled my knees up to my chest and buried my face in my palms, sobbing violently. 

For the next week nobody spoke of Andy, or the accident. Actually, no one really talked at all, we were all too afraid of what Liam would do. I have never been so terrified of him before, but he had every right to angry. In the five years we’ve been together, he has never raised his voice or broken a glass out of anger, at least never in front of me, and he has never had that dead stare in his eyes. I was starting to worry that my fun loving fiancée was gone for good.

 

When the doctors said Liam could finally leave, we were all so cheerful, but I couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about him being alone with no nurse to run to his side. His parents, sisters, and I came up with a plan so he wouldn’t be alone. 

Someone had to be with Liam at all times for the first two weeks; to make sure he was settling in okay. I got more phone calls than I should have within that time, both from his mother, father, and sisters. When his mother and father were with him, as much as he loved them, they were driving him crazy. His mother’s consistent crying and repeating ‘my baby’ was getting on his nerves, and his father’s repeated tries to get him out of bed was becoming too much. So, I decided to take a week off work to stay by his side, and save him from his loving, but suffocating, parents. But I didn’t know how to be there for him. Physically, I was always present but emotionally, I pulled away as far I could. 

Which is how I found myself sitting in our car alone, blasting the radio, and letting go of the tears I had been keeping inside. I needed to be strong for him; I needed to be the one who solved all the problems. I had to be the one to call the doctors, to get the prescriptions, help him around the house, and deal with his family. It was a lot to handle alone, and it was starting to take a toll on me. I know I shouldn’t have left him alone in the house, but I needed some space, a moment to breathe and let myself be free. When I finally collected my emotions, I headed back inside the house.

As I walked inside, I could hear Jay-Z blaring throughout the house, filing it up with more angry lyrics as the song went on. 

“Liam?” I called from the hallway. “Babe?” The only response I heard was more of the same song. As I got closer to the kitchen, the music became stronger. “Where are-” I trailed off as I realized the music wasn’t coming from upstairs, but the basement below. I headed down the stairs, unaware and worried of what I would find. As I got closer to the bottom of the stairs, it became clear what Liam was doing.

He was shifting the balance between the balls of his feet, his arms bent and his elbows tucked into his side. His arm snapped forward violently, colliding with the punching bag hanging from the ceiling. He grunted loudly as he threw another hit. Sweat beaded his forehead and more was glistening down his bare chest. With each blow he landed, more of his anger surface. He was finally letting out all that frustration he had been trying to keep buried. His blue sport shorts hung loosely off his hips, and as attractive as he was, I couldn’t help but be terrified by him. His gloves were nowhere in sight, and with each hit he threw, his skin cracked open more, leaving more blood on the bag than he had in his own body. His normally soft hair was drenched in sweat, and droplets fell to his face with every movement. 

“Liam stop! You can’t be doing this,” I pleaded. “You’re not healthy enough...”

“It’s all my fault!” He shouted, his fist connecting with the bag again.

“What?” I asked, slightly surprised.

“I killed Andy! He’s dead because of me!”

“Liam, you know that’s not true,” I said moving to stand just to the right of the punching bag so he could see me.

“It is!” he yelled, tears now filling his eyes. “It was my idea to go out, it was my idea to have a couple drinks, it was my idea to drive instead of taking a cab!” He was hitting the bag with each flash of memory he spoke of. “I’m the one that convinced him to leave the house! I’m the reason we crashed, if I-” but I wouldn’t let him finish.

“Liam, stop please, you’re scaring me,” I said more sternly than I ever had. “Liam, please” my words sharp but boken. He moved to throw another punch, but instead I stepped in front of the bag, trying everything I could to bring him back to me.

“Move,” he ordered.

“You didn’t cause this, any of it.” I stepped closer.

“MOVE!” He yelled forcing me to bite my bottom to hide the sobs trying to escape past my lips.

“Andy wanted to go, he wanted to drink,” His breathing becoming heavier, aching to throw another punch. “You didn’t crash into the other car. You did everything you could to move out of the way.”

“But I failed! I failed and now he’s dead!”

“You didn’t fail him,” my voice trying to be calm. “The driver of the car that hit you did. He’s the one that ran the light, he’s the one that was on his phone, he’s the one that flipped your car,” I could see his fists clench up again, so I stepped forward once more and held onto his hands.

“But you’re the one that’s doing this, you’re the one that’s breaking, you’re the one letting go,” I felt a small tear roll down my cheek. “Don’t let one man’s mistake ruin everything you have, don’t let him tear us apart.” 

And with those last words, I had his full attention. Tears streaming down my face as I looked into those big brown eyes of his, instead of anger, hate, and sadness, they were filled with regret. He never, ever, wanted to hurt me, to show me his darker side. He wanted always wanted more than anything to show me the love I never thought was real. I felt his fists unclench and his fingers intertwined with mine. His head dropped down and he rested his forehead on mine.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and a sigh of relief left my lips. I pulled away and placed a soft kiss to his forehead before leading him to the upstairs bathroom.

He sat on the counter top, the sink to his right, and his body folded in on itself. His hands lay crumpled in his lap, and his head hung low as I grabbed the first aid kit under the counter. I ran a clean cloth under luke warm water and placed it softly to his hands. I stood between his legs as I cleaned up his blood stained hands. As I carefully began to wipe away the mess, tears started to flow from his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say.

“It’s okay,” I said, grabbing the cleaning alcohol.

“It’s not, I didn’t want to be that guy for you.”

“What guy?” I asked, grabbing the tensor bandage and beginning to wrap up his hands.

“The one who loses control and pushes you away. The one who hurts you, I don’t want to be him.”

“You’re not,” he looked into my eyes with a sadness I’ve never seen before. But it wasn’t only sadness; it was anger for hurting me, someone he loved, and anger for losing control. “I’m not going to walk away from us, you can’t push me away,” I held his now bandaged hands in mine. “I love you, no matter what. I’m not going anywhere,” I smiled looking into those puppy dog eyes that got me all those years ago.

He placed his hands on my hips and pushed me back a bit so he could stand with me. He smiled, lifting me up and whipping me around before setting me down on the counter. I bit my bottom lip, not out of anticipation or excitement, but for the longing need of his love, and how emotionally raw he was. He stepped in between my legs, grabbing at the hem of my shirt. He pulled it up my body and over my head with ease, before finding his way to the button on my jean shorts. He helped me shimmy out of them, taking my black lace panties with them. I pulled at the elastic waist of his shorts, leaning forward as I slid the shorts, along with his boxers down his ass and letting them fall to the floor. 

Our eyes locked as he softly placed his rough hands on my hips, helping me forward. With my ass barley resting on the counter, he lined himself at my entrance. A swift thrust and he was in me completely. I arched my back at the feeling of only him inside me. I slinked my right arm around his neck, pulling his body closer to mine and I put my left hand on his right peck, bracing myself for the force he was about to give me. He placed his hands on my hips, and began to pull out slowly, before thrusting back into me. I brought my knees up, knowing he’d get a better angle to hit my sweet spot, and I crossed my ankles behind him, leaving no room in between us. He pressed his forehead to mine as he thrusted in again. The heat from our bodies and our breathing fogging up the glass. 

He pulled out again, pushing back into me and finding that sweet spot inside me. I let out a sharp gasp as he hit it again, each time bringing me closer to the edge. I dug my nails into his shoulder blade as he thrusted into me harder. His breathing erratic, but his pace staying the same. He moved his lips to mine and gave me the most honest, and loving kiss as he thrusted into me again, hitting that sweet spot and sending electricity through my body. I bit down hard on a sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder as I let the orgasm tear through me. His pace started to slow to a halt, and I looked into his eyes. I wanted him in me, completely. It may not be the smartest idea, but I was too blinded by his love, and his need to finally let go of every emotion he hid from me. I moved my lips to his ear and whispered the simplest thing I could. 

“I’m yours forever.” 

He breathed out sharply, a slight chuckle passing his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he said, even though he had nothing to apologize for. He moved his hand from my hip to my left hand, which was still placed on his chest. He held my hand in his, intertwining our fingers, and kissing the engagement ring that sat on my delicate hand. “I’ll never scare you again,” he smiled, looking deep into my eyes.

“I love you,” I smiled back, bracing my body for his final thrusts.


End file.
